


without my wounds, who am i?

by Kellyscams



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Canon Compliant, Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Canon, only in mention - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:50:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7838353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellyscams/pseuds/Kellyscams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tonight, Laurent exposes to Damen some of the pain that lies deep within him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	without my wounds, who am i?

**Author's Note:**

> Note: there are no major talks of exactly what went on between Laurent and the Regent. It's simply implied that it's what he wishes to discuss.

"Don't move." 

Laurent's voice slithers up Damen's spine like ice, instantly freezing him in place. Long gone are the days that Damen's _required_ to listen to him. These days are filled with innate reactions to hearing him need something, want something. Trust, Damen decides, is a funny thing. 

Droplets of water skitter down his back, dripping from Damen's hair. He clutches at the towel around his waist and doesn't move other than an attempted glance over his shoulder. Even that, he doesn't complete, and simply winds up with his chin near his shoulder as he stands still next to the fire. A soft glow fills the room as the flames in the hearth are the only source of light. 

They're traveling, currently. North, from Akielos to Vere as they work on uniting their kingdoms to make it as it once was. Peace talks are not easy to negotiate, kings or not. Jord and Nikandros have been doing their best to keep peace at the borders, but it's a long and difficult journey. Filled with outbursts among nobles and fights in villages and endless discussions and drawing up documents that Laurent is much better at than Damen. 

It'd been Laurent's idea to stop at the inn for the night in disguise. Away from the heavy burden that rests upon their shoulders. A place where they could just be them. 

"I thought it'd be nice," he said. "To spend time together, away from the politics."

He had flushed then, and looked away, but Damen smiled and gently coaxed his chin back towards him so that he could press a soft kiss to his lover's lips. Damen's sure he'll never tire of those sweet gestures of Laurent's. The one's that make him shy and turn his skin pink. 

But Damen had agreed. In both the idea and the sentiment behind it. With their wrist cuffs covered, and dressed in common Veretian style, they rented a room for the night. Where Damen now stands with his back to Laurent. Waiting. 

After a long, drawn out moment, the soft sounds of Laurent's approach behind him has Damen's skin tingling. Laurent stops right behind him. Standing close enough that the heat from his body raises the hair on the back of Damen's neck. When Laurent's fingers touch him, it takes all Damen's strength not to shudder under the softness of it. 

"Laurent..." Damen whispers. 

"Be quiet," Laurent instructs, and places the palm of his hand flat against the center of Damen's back. 

They don't move for a very long time. Not until Laurent's fingers start trailing across Damen's back. Along... along his scars, and Damen's breath catches in his throat. He's abruptly aware that this is the first time Laurent's ever done this. Or, if he has, it's been during the dark cover of night, when Damen sleeps and Laurent has the secrecy of shadows to perform such an act. 

Damen keeps so very still, he hardly dares to even breathe, lest he disturb Laurent, but when soft, thin lips press against him, he cannot hold in the tremble. 

"Laurent..." he breathes, helpless to say anything more. 

"I wouldn't take it back," Laurent says, body pressed up against Damen's as his fingers and lips continue to move across the back riddled with signs of his past treatment of Damen. "I _know_ I wouldn't. I'm not a decent enough man." 

Damen reaches up, gently takes hold of the fingers that've just grazed the spot by his shoulder. His thumb brushes over Laurent's knuckles. When Damen slowly begins to turn, Laurent doesn't stop him. Once he's facing him, Damen cups his cheek, locks of soft, golden hair fall over the back of his hand. Blue eyes flutter closed as Damen leans in and presses a soft, gentle kiss to the lips that once ordered him strapped to the cross and flogged. 

"You're the most decent man I know, Laurent," he murmurs, parting their mouths just a hairsbreadth. "You needn't apologize."

"Well that's very good," Laurent says. "I wasn't planning on it." 

Brow against Laurent's, Damen chuckles. "Of course you weren't. What was I thinking?" 

"I hardly know," Laurent answers.

His mouth opens, as it usually does in moments like these, to continue speaking, only Damen shocks him silent with another kiss. Laurent is only wearing a long shirt, skimming his thighs just above the knee, and Damen's hands slip under it. Skims his fingers lightly across Laurent's sides -- slow and gentle, the way he likes it. 

Beneath his touch, Laurent shivers and makes a noise against Damen's mouth. Damen cups the back of his neck, fingers curled into his soft hair, and draws Laurent closer. 

"Wait..." Laurent mumbles into their kiss. "Damen..." 

The hand on Damen's chest eases him away, and Laurent takes a step back. Damen, of course, will always stop at the slightest hint of Laurent's hesitation and he, too, moves away a step. Laurent's fingers move up to his lips, as though trying to savor their kiss. Like this kiss is more valuable than gems and diamonds and golds. A treasure he needs to keep locked up so he has it forever.

"What is it, Laurent?" Damen asks. "What's wrong?" 

Crossing the room, Laurent moves to the table where he pours himself water. He fills the second chalice there as well, sliding it to the end of the table so that Damen can take it if he wants. 

"You wears your scars proudly," Laurent comments after taking a sip of his water. He's no longer facing Damen, but the fire. Watching the flames dance along the wood it eats away to survive. "With honor. All of them."

Damen's hand touches the scar left on him by Auguste. He used to wear this one with pride. There's not exactly _shame_ to it now. But he had no idea how this scar -- forever and permanent -- would change with time. It was almost as though Auguste sealed a fate that day. Scarring Damen and bringing him one step closer to the man he'd fall deeply in love with. 

Laurent says, "I have them, too, Damianos." Laurent places his hand gently over his chest. "You can't see them. But I want to show you mine." 

His voice has softened, weakened even. It cracks ever so slightly, and Damen's never heard Laurent speak like this. With pain in the back of his throat. Laurent, who picks and chooses his words with great care and finesse, still troubles with keeping his heart and thoughts and desires behind thick, metal shields. Damen would do anything to become that shield. To protect him from hurting ever again. He would gladly throw himself upon blade after blade if that meant Laurent would never feel a single ounce of pain again. 

Damen slowly moves to stand beside him. It takes a great amount of restraint not to wrap him in his arms. Laurent is in pain, is showing his pain, right now, and it's not in Damen to not _do_ something for him. But Laurent would sooner stick Damen's belly with a sword than allow him to hug him right now. So Damen just gets closer to him. Puts his hand next to Laurent's so that they're just touching. Laurent, in an infinite sign of affection, curls his little finger over Damen's. 

"You can show me anything, Laurent," Damen tells him. "Anything at all."

"I know that," Laurent whispers. "You're not going to like it. But I need you not to talk until I'm finished. And don't look at me. I can't bare to see the disappointment--" 

"Laurent." Damen doesn't move any more than taking hold of his hand. His heart pounds with anger already. For Laurent's belief that he should hold any responsibility for what was done to him. "I love you." There are so many more things he wishes he could say. Words to heal wounds that Laurent's kept hidden for so many years. But there's only one way he knows how to help. "I love you." 

Laurent's eyes close. He lowers his head with a nod. And begins. 

"He found me in the library. Two weeks after Auguste died..."

And Damen listens, his hand remaining locked with Laurent's the whole time. 

He listens to every word Laurent is willing to share with him. 

Every scar he's willing to expose. 

 


End file.
